


Two Tornadoes in a Storm

by paintingsinthedark



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Angst, M/M, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), Unhappy Ending, Weed Usage, idk - Freeform, small suicide mention at end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:02:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23465836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paintingsinthedark/pseuds/paintingsinthedark
Summary: Ashton and Cole fell in love slowly. They fucked and they kissed and then they dated, and their breakup was one that required popcorn and a movie theatre.
Relationships: OMC/OMC
Kudos: 2





	Two Tornadoes in a Storm

Aston knew he was a shitty person. There was no way around it. He did what he could to make up for it, so he did what he could to help those who needed it. His specialty was talking to people who were depressed to the point of suicidal. And somehow, they tended to become his friends. There were others too, but he was always shocked when someone liked him enough to put up with him and his crazy fucking autistic brain. So he was nice to them.

But because he was a shitty person, he knew that there was absolutely no chance of having a decent relationship with someone. Especially because he’s gay. There’s a lot wrong with the queer community. Guys expect their boyfriends to be these perfect muscular dudes or perfect twinks. Aston was neither. He was not particularly attractive and he talked back too much, promoted unpopular ideas. Not to mention that he didn’t want someone who was a pushover.

And Cole wasn’t a pushover. Christ, Cole was perfect. He was hot, with that long hair that Aston fantasized about running his hands through while kissing, and the attitude and the ability to manipulate words to win an argument because on the surface it sounded good. He had unpopular opinions and was okay with the dark web. The problem was that Cole wasn’t just a perfect fuck. He would be good for cuddling, too. Cole would be squishy enough to cuddle, and he was tall enough to not have to look up to have a conversation, but he also was short enough to make the height difference perfect. And Aston could sometimes be the little spoon.

Cole had these occasional bits of vulnerability and an ‘I don't care what the world does to me’ attitude, but the world had already done so much to him. Aston fell in love with the little bits like that, those moments of vulnerability. Of weakness. But he fell in love with the strong side too, the side of Cole that would match him intellectually.

The problem was, Cole would never fall in love with him back.

And then they kissed.

~~

It started when they took things too far. Cole already had a history of going too far. Aston didn’t. Cole had a history of ordering things off Amazon. Aston did not. Therefore, Cole had a buttplug and lube in his bedside drawer.

The first time they took things too far, it was just a handjob. The second time a blowjob. The third time it was rimming. The fourth time Cole brought out the lube. But from the first time they’d realized what they’d done, there had been two unspoken rules.

1\. They would never talk about it, between themselves or with anyone else.  
2\. No kissing.

Now it was 2 years later, and they were juniors, and they were 17, and Cole’s parents didn’t guard their alcohol stash nearly as well as they should, and Aston had just broken the second rule. Which meant that the first rule would have to be broken.

Aston was horrendously drunk. He was over at his friend? Friend with benefits? Lover?’s house, and Cole’s parents were out for the weekend, and his thinking was extraordinarily muddy. All he knew was that fuck, Cole’s mouth felt really good, wrapped around his dick like that, and his tongue was doing these things, but Aston got so lonely sometimes. And he’d fallen in love with Cole sometime right before they started this arrangement, of fucking when convenient. And so his drunken brain managed to drag Cole up for a kiss.

~~

Aston was a wildcard. Cole wasn’t usually attracted to wildcards. But Aston was tall and attractive and the first time they kissed it was surrounded by the smell of weed and the dizzy high and Cole had really liked it.

That was dangerous.

So they hadn’t kissed again.

And about a year into their fucking arrangement Cole had taken a step back to actually think about Aston.

He’d matured. He wasn’t unnecessarily offensive. He still talked back, and talked about communism and things generally considered bad and he could and did put forward arguments supporting them, but he’d mellowed a bit and Cole liked that. He would talk about social justice, too. Cole didn’t act like he cared, but deep down it was important to him.

Aston had these fingers. They were long and bony and his hands were big and Cole spent a little while imagining where Tank could put them, what new things they could try.

Aston, if he slept over, would pass out in bed next to Cole. Aston snored. Aston didn’t get enough sleep and Cole worried about him, and then worried about caring. Aston would sometimes have this look of extreme loneliness and vulnerability when no one was watching, but when he was asleep, Cole could see him soften. Cole liked Aston soft.

And one particular weekend, Cole’s parents were out of town and they were both so drunk and Cole was sucking Aston off and Aston pulled him up and kissed him. And yeah, they’d have to talk, but for now, they’ve both been craving this for years, so they’re going to enjoy it and in the morning when they both wake up with raging hangovers they’ll talk about it.

~~

They didn’t talk about it. But a few weeks later Aston went to see a movie with a group of friends and Cole, who stunk of weed. And in the middle of the movie, somehow they had ended up sitting next to each other, and maybe Cole’s brain told him that maybe we let the pot take over, and maybe Cole grabbed Aston’s hand.

After that, they sometimes kissed.

~~

They had spent time actually doing things together. They played video games and talked and got food and maybe sometimes one would grab the others hand or maybe they would cuddle and sometimes they would kiss and sometimes their arrangement would cross the line from angry fucking into gentle sex into making love. And maybe Cole still worried about Aston, and maybe still found him beautiful while sleeping, but sometimes Cole passed out first, and Aston loved those nights. And he was terrified that talking about it would ruin it.

~~

Aston  
**Cole**

1:43am  
We need to talk…  
**rly?**  
Yes. Cole, what are we even doing?  
**fucking? 🍆💦🍑**  
Are you fucking kidding me? We started this as a friends with benefits arrangement, yeah, but that’s not what we are anymore. You’re the one who made it more, Cole, with your little hand-holding theatre move. Don’t tell me that we’re just *fucking* you know better than that.  
**I don’t even know anymore.**  
…  
**we have these nights when it’s all rough sex and little lube and biting and writhing and little prep and choking but we have these nights where it’s also like super soft and lots of foreplay and kissing and sweetness and i don’t know anymore because those nights i just want that, and you, for as long as i can have you and maybe i fall a little more in love with you each time that happens. and maybe falling in love is a bad idea, god knows it was with Janet but I just give up. i rly do.**

What do you want from us? Me?  
(Because I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with you a little bit too. And I’m fucking terrified)  
**i… a boyfriend?**  
**would you be okay with that?**  
FUCK yes.  
…  
One more thing.  
School?  
**do you want to be out?**  
I’m okay with it.  
**then i am too.**

~~

Not a whole lot changed, really. But Aston, when flitting between classes, would always make sure to get to each one of Cole’s before moving on. When they saw each other in the hallway, Aston would turn to walk with Cole for a bit, and they would hold hands. At lunch, Aston would go over to Cole’s lunch table, and before he left, he would kiss Cole on the top of his head.

~~

Aston and Cole were two wildcards, both raging tornadoes, wreaking havoc and destruction on those that couldn’t withstand their force. They twirled and spun and left violence in their wake, and that was emphasized the most in their relationship. The breakup was a movie, popcorn was necessary. It played out with two broken hearts, because really, who would ever think that two tornadoes could make something work? Aston and Cole’s love, like a storm, died out, but unlike a storm, died violently. They never forgot each other- you never forget your first love- but they never forgave each other, and their hearts would remain broken just a little until they died.

Cole lived longer than expected, he made it to 27. Anyone who knew Cole knew that it was not an accident. The bullet hole to the head was a fairly clear marker of that. Aston found out about his death and sobbed.

Aston died at 64. His spouse had died seven years before, and eventually he stopped taking his antiretrovirals. He gave his body to science with his death- smallpox worked wonders on a body that had a fucked immune system. His death was painful and planned.

Cole died in his apartment, within 10 miles of where he grew up. Aston died half the world away, leaving for Eurasia the first chance he got, settled down in Munich after 30 good years of travel. Aston and Cole did not meet again-they didn’t ever talk after high school graduation. Neither of them believed in an afterlife. They had 3 years tumultuous years together, and they died as they had lived - as storms that thundered through, uprooting beliefs, lives, and people in their wakes.


End file.
